


Idiot's Rescue

by orphan_account



Category: Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-11
Updated: 2012-01-11
Packaged: 2017-10-29 08:59:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/318068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She bails him out of jail, again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Idiot's Rescue

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written anonymously for [this prompt](http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/1854.html?thread=731710#t731710) at [ avengerkink](avengerkink.livejournal.com) on November 14, 2011

Natasha got a call at three in the morning, the recorded voice saying the call would last two minutes and no more. She pressed the phone to her ear, alert and awake immediately. Of course someone was in trouble the one day she was able to sleep in at headquarters. She stifled a yawn as the voice on the other end began talking.

“Yvonne, I need you to bring one of the black credit cards-” Clint' voice was muffled as he asked someone on the other end if they took credit cards. “Yeah, one of the cards and come to the sixteenth precinct, oh lovely wife of Clive Barton.” There was laughter in his voice and she swore mentally that he was making her trot out this story. Sometimes Natasha thought he liked trying to catch her unawares; too bad for him it had yet to happen. (and never would, there was a reason she was the best in her field.)

The woman swung her legs out of bed and started hunting for a pair of jeans, taking note of the names he said. The phone calls from jail were recorded and it wouldn't do to show up with identities other than what would be on the records. “ _Moya rodimy_ , you can't stay out of trouble for one evening?” She pulled the jeans on and stomped into her boots as her partner made grateful noises over the crackly connection. “Be there in less than an hour. Don't kill anyone. We don't need Fury involved in this again.” Natasha ignored his noises of protest and hung up just before the connection cut out at the two minute mark and found a shirt. She headed to her jewelry box and found one of the five weddings rings she used for undercover work along with the id cards for Yvonne and Clive Barton, married for two years. He knew it was her favorite one.

The things she did for her partner. Natasha couldn't wait to hear his side of the story.

Clint was brought out to her after the paperwork had been processed and she'd paid a truly exorbitant fee, walking between two bulky policemen. She didn't bother to remember the court date because she was sure Coulson could make it disappear like the others and they'd be out of the country anyhow. Natasha stood from the lobby bench, taking Clint's hand in her own.

Clint inclined his head at the officers, smirking. “It's been fun, gents. I hope I never see you again.”

Natasha interrupted him before his mouth got him into more trouble; one of the guards looked like he was close to pulling his service weapon. “Let's go home, shall we?” She said sweetly, digging her nails into his palm. Clint got the message and they walked out the door.

They made it to the parking lot before she slammed her partner against the car, out of sight of the precinct cameras and any cops walking around on their smoke break. “What the hell were you thinking?” She hissed, glaring up at him. “You know we have a mission in two days and you think it's a good time to get arrested?” Natasha wrinkled her nose. “You smell like a frat party.”

Clint grinned unrepentantly. “They had me in the drunk tank, since they picked me up near the bar. I figured it was better to cool my heels there than be stuck in the regular holding cell again.” Natasha nodded – they really didn't need a repeat of the previous arrest – and motioned for him to get in the car.

The man argued his side of things as she peeled out of the lot. “And for the record: No, I don't think two days before a mission is a good time to get arrested. I was at the bar, playing darts and stepped out to get some air. Some asshole was beating on his gal,” Natasha's hands flexed and tightened on the steering wheel instinctively at the words. “So I stepped in and made him stop. He pressed charges for assault and she didn't even thank me!”

“Some people are idiots, you included,” Natasha said, driving into the underground parking lot for S.H.I.E.L.D. employees. Clint made a wounded noise under his breath at her. She rolled her eyes.

“But I'm your idiot.” Natasha didn't have to look over to know that he was grinning again.

“That's why you get to tell Coulson what happened. I'm going back to bed and don't even think about joining me until you shower.” Natasha retorted, parking the car. Clint pouted at her as she walked away.

She undressed and climbed into bed, pulling the covers over her. They were already cool to the touch and Natasha grumbled under her breath as she shut her eyes to find sleep for the second time.

The door creaked as it opened and Natasha's eyes opened, hand closing around the throwing knife under Clint's   
pillow.

“Don't shoot, it's just me.” Clint whispered. Natasha let go of the weapon and turned over so her back was facing him. “Oh, c'mon sweetheart, don't be like that.” Clint slid into bed next to her, arm curling around her waist as it usually did. “I'll pay you back for the bail money.”

“You interrupted my sleep. The one day we can sleep in, you decide to get arrested at three in the morning.” Natasha growled, pressing back into his chest despite her tone. Clint pressed a kiss to her shoulder.

“Sorry.” He apologized, the pad of his thumb sweeping over the curve of her hipbone with small strokes. Natasha sighed.

“Shut up and sleep, Clint.” Her eyes were shut but she was sure he was smirking at her in the dark.


End file.
